


A Discovery a Day

by imaginary_iby



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-13
Updated: 2014-04-13
Packaged: 2018-01-19 04:11:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1454914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imaginary_iby/pseuds/imaginary_iby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first few mornings that Steve and Danny spend together, and the weird, wonderful, and slightly embarrassing discoveries that follow.  </p><p>Otherwise knows as: morning shenanigans and goofiness.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Discovery a Day

“What the hell?”

Danny pauses, slice of toast half dunked in his coffee. “What?” He can’t see anything that warrants Steve’s alarm, but it’s best to be prepared for anything in the McGarrett house.

“That’s disgusting.” Steve’s nose wrinkles, and goddamn it, Danny does not find that attractive. It’s just a stupid nose, straight, stern, able to nuzzle all of Danny’s hotspots with pin-point accuracy.

“What is?” Lost, Danny rescues the toast from his coffee, but he’s too late. The corner tears off, plopping into the cup to sink to its depths. Dunking toast is a delicate process, easily derailed by cantankerous SEALs.

Oh.

“Wait, you’ve seriously never dunked your toast into your coffee?”

Steve looks aghast. “No?”

“Knock it off,” Danny says, waving his hands around until a glob of butter falls onto the bench. “You eat MREs for lunch, you have no leg to stand on.”

Steve has two, actually – very naked, very powerful, and now very much smack in front of Danny’s face. 

Danny rolls his eyes, to avoid staring. “Could you wag your cock around somewhere else, please? I’m trying to eat my breakfast.” He shifts back in his chair, but Steve only steps closer. “Seriously, you animal, all this nakedness in the kitchen is not sanitary.”

Steve scoffs, hitching his ass up onto the bench. His _naked_ ass, his naked ass that Danny did things to, the night before. 

“There’s not enough Ajax in the world, Steve.”

Steve peers into the coffee cup, eyebrows burdened with distaste. “I refuse to be judged by someone who dunks their toast. That’s disgusting. How have I never noticed this about you before?”

He’s never noticed it before, because today is Danny’s first proper morning at Steve’s house. Sure, he’s slept off team barbeques on Steve’s couch, and he’s made them all eggs for breakfast: but eggs require a delicate toast-to-scramble ratio, nothing spare for coffee-dunking. 

This morning is Steve’s first intimate glimpse of Danny’s dark side.

Danny almost feels sorry for him. Almost.

-

Their second morning together, Danny wakes to strange grunting. He blinks his eyes open, taking in the lazily oscillating fan, and he’s not sure where he is until the artwork on Steve’s bedroom wall reminds him. Nobody but Steve loves boats _that_ much.

Danny rolls over, expecting to maybe find Steve jerking off - and, seriously, _rude_ \- but the bed is empty.

Grunt, one-two; grunt, one-two; grunt, one-two.

“Are you serious?” Danny exclaims, having finally located Steve on the floor beside the bed. 

“It’s important-“ Steve drops to the ground, “-to maintain-“ Steve pushes up, muscles flexing, elbows locking, “-a diligent workout-“ Steve drops to the ground again, “-regimen.”

“It’s five in the morning, Steven.”

Steve continues his push-ups, undeterred. “The day starts early, Daniel. Besides, you work out, those arms aren’t magic.”

Danny fights down a pleased little flush, flopping onto his back and lamenting that he’s hitched his wagon to a lunatic. “We’ve had sex exactly three times, Steve. For the foreseeable future, _I_ am your diligent workout regimen. If you’re going to be doing 5AM push-ups, they should be on top of _me_. Or you can do sit-ups under me, I’m flexible, whatever works.”

As far as come-ons go, it needs work, but the grunting stops, and Danny can practically hear the cogs inside Steve’s brain turning. The bed dips, and then suddenly six feet of sweaty Steve is plastered along Danny’s front.

Victory.

-

Danny gazes lewdly into the shower, watching soapy water sluice over Steve’s shoulders, trickle down his back to curve over his ass. It's a fine ass. Not as fine as his own, thank you very much, but muscled and lightly-hairy and everything that Danny was hoping it would be.

He waggles his eyebrows suggestively, and Steve smiles like a goof, scrubbing one armpit, then the other. Those gorgeous hands head south, and Steve gives his balls a perfunctory clean, swift yet thorough. This, Danny feels, is the perfect moment to make his move, and he stalks forward, prepared to help Steve out.

Steve turns off the water, grabs his towel, and begins to dry off. Danny can only watch, one foot off the ground, as Steve quickly and efficiently scrubs himself dry, lobs the towel into the laundry basket, and swans out the door with a sunny smile.

“Get back here,” Danny says, pointing at a spot on the bathroom floor. It’s a struggle to remember that he’s not talking to Gracie’s dog, but he does, and he softens his words with a courteous, “Please.”

Bemused, Steve pads back into the bathroom, boxer-briefs hooked between finger and thumb. “What’s up?” he asks, as he starts to step into them.

“I am not a subtle man,” Danny says, wrestling the boxers out of Steve’s grip. He can imagine, with vivid clarity, how they look on – tight, hiding nothing, just waiting to be explored. Not as good as naked-Steve, though, so Danny drops them to the floor. “I am not a subtle man, and that was some serious eyebrow waggling I was doing, there. Did you really not catch my drift?”

Steve crosses his arms, staring at Danny down the length of his nose. “Danny. There are a million places to have sex, the shower is unnecessary. Water conservation is a serious issue, we don’t need to-“

“Water conservation? Are you serious, we live in Hawaii!”

“Be that as it may, three minutes is really all that I’m willing to spend in the shower. If you want to have sex, we can have sex, there’s a perfectly respectable bed right - hey, hey, what’re you doing?”

Shoving Steve into the center of the stall, Danny turns the taps on, drowning out any further protest.

For a second, at least. “Danny! I just finished drying off!” 

Steve’s hair is plastered over his forehead, covering crinkled eyebrows, and he looks so damn annoyed that Danny has to bite on a smile. The second that he reaches out, curling his fingers around Steve’s dick, gently tugging him closer for a kiss, those eyebrows smooth out, tamed by touch.

By the time they’re done, Danny’s pretty sure that he’s fractured something. Three feet of shower stall isn’t enough for six feet of Steve, let alone Danny tangled up on top. Fortunately, he’s not above digging his elbows into Steve’s softer spots, (not that there’s many) until he finds a comfortable position. 

The water is still running, but Steve can only glower at the taps, obviously too tired and satisfied and trapped under Danny to move. 

“You’re a SEAL,” Danny says, pillowing his head on Steve’s shoulder. “I thought you’d enjoy combining orgasms and water.”

Steve’s eyebrows do something complicated and unimpressed. “You have a weird understanding of the Navy, Danny.”

The water is starting to run cold, and Danny shivers, before finally relenting and turning the taps off. The bathroom goes quiet, although Danny swears that he can still hear Steve’s sex-grunts echoing between his ears.

“So, shower sex.” A line of freckles trails along Steve’s shoulder, perfect for kissing and licking, and so Danny does just that. “One for the win column?” he asks, lips pressed against Steve’s pulse-point.

Steve hems and haws, but Danny can see right through it. 

“I think we could definitely incorporate it into our morning schedule, yes.”

“You’re such a romantic,” Danny teases, poking Steve’s thigh with his foot.

\- 

“Danny, what the hell, come on, where are they, we’re late!”

Steve is rushing around the house in a t-shirt and no underwear, tan cargos thrown over his shoulder. It’s a very pretty sight, although it’s not currently one that Danny has the time to appreciate.

He figures he has maybe two-three minutes to spare - Steve’s timberlands are completely unlaced, and for not the first time in his life, Danny wonders about how the military is ever anywhere on time.

Not that two-three minutes is enough time to put on the load of washing that he was supposed to do last night. 

In his peripheral vision, he notices Steve come to a complete stand-still. 

“No,” Steve says, shaking his head. “Don’t tell me.”

Danny has the good graces to wince apologetically. “Yeah. Sorry babe.”

“You have a kid, Danny, how have you not figured out chores yet?” Steve flops onto the couch, despondent - apparently even the hardest of SEALs turn gangly and sulky when presented with no clean underwear. “We decided that you’d be in charge of the washing, seeing as you’ve been spending so much time here lately. Something about too many spiders in the garden, if I remember correctly.”

Danny nods, because, yeah, it’s true. One visit to the zoo with Grace’s science class has sworn him off touching anything green, ever again. Not that he’d ever made a habit of it, really. He spares a second to wonder how, exactly, he and Steve went from getting together, to dividing housework in the space of a few weeks. The stupid part of his heart decides that he likes it, even if it is terrifying.

“It was the Mets v Braves, babe, I’m genetically required to watch. And then I walked past the bedroom and you were asleep, and…”

He’d rather go to work naked before admitting that Steve had looked all inviting, ruffled and snoozy. Danny’s a sucker for back-muscles, what can he say, they lure him in every time.

Ten minutes later, they’re in the queue at the ABC around the corner, two three-packs of briefs and a Starbucks frappucino tucked under their elbows.

“Damn it,” Steve says, and Danny knows where this is going right from the first syllable.

“Let me guess, you forgot your wallet.”

Steve smiles, an innocent aw-shucks kind of smile, but it’s not fooling Danny for even a second. “Yeah, sorry. Oh, hey.” Steve stealthily plucks a packet of condoms off the shelf. “We need more of these, too. I’ll go wait in the car.”

He swans off, and Danny can’t help but eye the sway of his hips, flushing a little at the secret knowledge that Steve is naked under those cargos.

He knows, then, with startling clarity, that he’s never going to be able to keep on top of the washing. Not when he has to contend with Steve’s muscles and his push-ups and his mind-boggling cable-package. Seriously, Danny is in hockey-heaven.

“Yeah man, go ahead,” he says to the guy behind him, ducking out of the line and making a beeline for the three-pack boxers. 

Probably best to stock up, while he’s here.


End file.
